There is so much blur into how some nights color into mornings Not just the eyes, touching, hearing; not just the smell of things, All of it, all at once, works in full harmony and the old you is tracing the footsteps of what your inner kid would enjoy to follow, tracing the time passing and taking all the hurt along with the happiness away with it creating anew each time and leaving another unknown feeling that you are fully able to describe but not that much enthisuastic to do so, there lingers a reluctance to fully articulate the depths of any emotion. Whatever the reason, there's a certain beauty in the unspoken, if it is not interpreted vaguely, where boundaries blur and words fail, there exists the feeling, feeling of excitement, starting from scratch and building something up It's a reminder that we are but transient, drifting through and by time Putting up a straightly standing face but being upset to have been disappointing Does the time take us from one point and leave at a completely different one? In the progress we so willingly want to make and show to the whole world, Are we still able to live by whatever it was that made our character? And so, as the night fades into memory and the morning sun bathes the world in its golden light, we can find solace in whatever is easier to hold onto in a bad enough moment, “we are anyone on a bad day.” It is the hard part to stay the same on any day. Smoke has filled the air; evidently, the world is spinning. Pushing away the old habits and bringing out the new ones, If they fill someone with sentences of grudge and jaundice, then she is bound to a language that vomits vague words. Not that being vague is the same as being anyone, but see that it is a step closer to it. And it’s not you who’s already drunk; it’s your fingers. They don’t know how to touch. They don’t know how to remember a touch and never be able to taste that again. but the night turning blue screams; “forget it, let it not matter.” They say if you don’t know, you’ll live much longer and having many people repeat things is somehow always valid enough and when the going gets rough, we push through and rebuff without any validation or hesitation of a bluff. Melis Erdogan Songs that go well with it: This This and this too
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Grow out of it.
This incontestable truth hangs on the collar of your black shirt. Grow out of the truth that you need change. It is a complete change that you must see fit after this point. Just grow out of it as everything comes easy to you. Your tearful childhood is waving from afar, from further than where you so comfortably are. The stone-cold truth is that a flower can be poisoned from its root sometimes. Its soil, the ground it stands up can be the earthquake to its existence. So may it be, a flower can never pull its roots to another pot to water the bad away and blossom through the damage. Realize the power you hold within and grow the way you like, not the one they choose. Grow out of it already, your time is passing and you keep nodding and rotting away. You did have the world in front of your feet and now it is just the barriers you built to stay as that broken child. Further is terrifying but so is to stand still in the midst of all this beauty and not see. All the sunshine you took inbetween breaks of your life cannot be luminous enough to fight your dark. It is consuming and it is so subtly forcing its acceptance on your skin that could feel the frequencies of love. Grow out of the place you call home and the people you think are irreplaceable. Only then you can meet yourself for the first time and not be responsible of what they mold you into. Only then you can see yourself and judge that person as you judge others. Then perhaps even realize that your incomplete sense of fairness is too much of a bullshit even for you. Grow out of your old habits and comfortably constructed castle walls. You are not protecting anything inside, but you are depriving yourself of who you can become. The you that feels, enjoys, sings, dances, dreams and so much more that your imperious body craves. but grow out of it soon, soon enough so there is still time and so you do not “go gentle into that good night.” Easy is the sticky, it is the dead end of all the roads that can fork from joyful decisions that will make you realize. When you see no light, then you will see there is no windows on the walls you put up. It is you that wronged you, it is you that betrayed your own feelings, nothing can force the light in if you don't accept that you decided to look blind. When you close your eyes and the only thing that comes that night is a handful of misjudged past, then there is something so internally wrong about that very night. It should be you, You that is calm and you that can sleep instead of fighting your conscience. Not this fear and anxiety that were badly chosen gifts from your coincidental past. You can see the difference, between being made of your unbearable misery, and just being the best version of you naturally. I’m coming home to what we have and what we have is gold. I’m coming home to where my child was born, to where we lost our souls, but are always eager to find them in a better shape than they were before. Melis Erdogan “Once you do something, you never forget. Even if you don’t remember.” Spirited Away - Hayao Miyazaki , 2001 , Japan https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TK1Ij_-mank Prepare the breakfast and make some tea for later
Get yourself ready for the day and don't feel the absence of your newly acquainted future the pressure making its way from all directions incomplete stories started to be told but never remembered Today is the first day looked at your past self from afar the lights will not turn green on the street of Lidl and Jacques', it was a different Friday then, one where you were just being you taking in all the real feelings and solid promises, breathing out the burden from the recent past hand in hand with yourself, and with so much more than that though it is not in you to feel anything how i felt, it was so close, so familiar but it was still a different Friday one where you did not have to carry the pain around one where you learned and taught, and where you were enough to fall asleep calmly and in peace, to go through day waiting for coming back home, to share more than words and speak in same frequency, to be loved and lay down under the sun, holding on to your willing-shadow safely Have the tea while you write down another story or a song. There is a chance you will sing it some time soon, there is a chance it will beat as your aching heart in the middle of a street at midnight, when you felt that you loved the moon just because and the moment it did not realize how unprepared and real you have held on a midnight snack goes well if you still have an ounce of energy left, i will take mine hot and yours extra cheesy, i will take mine without comforting lies but I want the upsetting truth it will never leave a stain on me because i have bled it all on the paper and in my head prepare yourself, not for someone but just for the sake of still being capable of standing so tall i did not realize heart can turn into stone and fidelity gets stale, it is killing me and remaking me but there was no need for such an act all the while Kirazlarin olmasina yakin bizim oralara gideriz. Sana denizin cok tuzlu oldugunu, ordan durunca daglari da gorebildigini, insan korkusundan saldirganlasmis martilarin cigligini, en sevdigim lokanta ile cocuklugumun kosturdugu sokaklari gosteririm. Eger biraz da sansliysak tum bunlardan sonra gelecege dogru devam ederiz gezintiye. Melis Erdogan |
Melis Erdoğan
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February 2024
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